Batty's Only Slightly Pretentious Author Commentary

"Kudzu" (9/05)

What can I say? It's wartime and we've all got war on the brain. That's where this came from....

"Shelter" (2/9/05)

I was sitting, surrounded on three sides by the walls of my cubicle, when I decided to write something from a perspective I'd (fortunately) never yet had--that of a homeless person. Something about cubicles will do that to you, I guess. Anyway, I didn't want to fall into the trap of making the story really syrupy sweet (though maple syrup is delicious and one should never buy the fake kind) or really "Gee, these plucky kids are so down on their luck but heck, they'll find a way" ish. Or something to that effect. So what resulted was two days worth of writing in my cubicle at work between calls and then this, the finished piece. I'm happy to say, too, that this story won the "Three Genres Fiction Contest" held by Idaho State University. I'm movin' on up, I am!

"Between Two Points" (finished 1/05)

I don't remember precisely when it was, but at some point in the latter part of the rather inauspicious year of 2003, I stumbled across an article in Rolling Stone magazine that, amazingly, caught my attention. My attention is a notoriously fickle creature, mind you. The article concerned underaged female prostitues in LA (are there any other kind these days?)...and how an alarming number of the ones picked up by police were originally from small towns in Minnesota. There appeared to be a trend developing. And wouldn't you know it, but within the next week, while listening to NPR, I heard a report about the very same phenomenon.

I'm originally from Minnesota, see, and even if that weren't so I think the story would have still piqued my interest. How do these young girls from the frozen north end up being pulled into the seedy, no weather, destitute underworld of prostitution in Los Angeles? I'm sure there are a million answers, a million scenarios, none of them pleasant. But that's were I drew my inspiration for this short story. I initially had grand designs on making this into a novel, but that didn't pan out, and I think it's better that way. So this is the result. I hope it's enjoyable--albeit in that dark-nasty-unpleasant-to-think-about-way. Feel free to let me know.

"Light"

This is nothing more than a silly vignette. Originally, I had planned to submit this to a short story competition--it was the first thing that popped into my head--but I later thought better and sent something of better, well, quality. So, don't expect much but perhaps a chuckle. By the by, the bar at the end with the shady dealings going on upstairs is a real place in my little ole city, but out of respect for the women (and patrons) who work there, I've withheld it's actual name. *g*

"Muffins and Motherfuckin' Scones"

Writers got to make a livin', see, and sometimes that involves selling ones talents (and occassionally lending out ones body) to interested patrons. Sometimes this "selling" involved money, sometimes merely the gratitude and adulations of an adoring fan. While the former is certainly preferable, being that it keeps the writer's oft-neglected tummy full, the latter is indeed quite the balm to the soul, too. In this case, it was the latter that led me to pen this really quite ridiculous little tale. Being that my roommate, Leanne, was coming up on a birthday--and feeling a bit lonely--she requested this story of me. I included the names of real life friends (dear God, I actually have them), without their permission I might add, to spice things up. Please, now, enjoy.

An Absence of Myth (i.e. ye ole new big novel-in-progress)

As of right now, this story is still in research/zygote stage. There is a synopsis up, as well as a self-contained short story based on the novel--Tempting Faith. But I wanted to start right off by writing a bit about the intentions of this novel and such, because it does manage to deal with some tricky subject matter. For instance, I'm sure that no matter how tactfully and skillfully I manage (or don't manage) to write this story, someone, somewhere will be offended by it simply because it deals with all manner of religious history. You mention the name Jesus, and some peoples' hackles just rise instinctually. But the thing is this, I'm not writing this to prove or disprove anyone's faith. I'm not writing this to outright offend anyone. I'm not writing this with any malicious intent. I am writing this because Religious history (and I mean all Religions) absolutely fascinates me, history in general fascinates me, spirituality fascinates me, and human nature fascinates me. And I like to write--controversial as it may be. I'm writing this because an idea struck me whilst sitting in Religion class, and I decided to explore it further. These are just ideas, imaginings of my idle brain. My goal is to present an interesting, creative, possibly thought-provoking story that incorporates true history, mythology, religious history/mythology, crazy imaginative fiction, and human beings just trying to deal with all that. So, take it for what it's worth, and please don't get too offended...because if you do find yourself severly offended, then I might suggest taking a nice long vacation, because my fiction ought not be able to shake your foundations if they're solid.

Current progress: Chapter 14

Rising Into Consciousness (5-00 thru 2-01)
This was the story-in-progress (it's finished! hooray!). The title was inspired by a quote from a book by Darcey Steinke called, Suicide Blonde (which is excellent), that goes, "And I knew my memories, childhood or otherwise, were simply time I rose up into consciousness and was intensely myself." I really dig that quote, and something about it made sense for this story. As for this story and where it came/is coming from, well that's a damn good question. I'm never sure where these things come from...I just figure that it's some scary place in the back of my mind that I'd rather not explore. But I did get the basic idea for this little tale from a strange phenomenon called "Uber". If you reeeeally wanna know what that is exactly, go to What is Uber? It's a bit strange, I know, but it inspired me so I don't question. Anyhoo...

Part One:
I used to live right by Chicago, so yes I actually have some knowledge of the place.

Belmont/Clark/Halsted are real streets in the city that I used to frequent and there were a lot of clubs there...and yes, Halstead is actually Chicago's "official" gaytown. As for the names of characters and shite, well they mostly came from my head. They are names I dig and/or names from my past...Auset is a name that a good friend of mine introduced me to which is actually one of the other versions of the name "Isis", the Egyptian Goddess. Reese is a name I've always been fond of for one reason or another. Dade, as you might well know, came from the movie "Hackers". Corny movie, I know, but I can't help but love it. Ash is also another name I've always loved (plan on naming a kid that some day, or rather, Ashton)...which may or may not have anything to do with the fact that one of my favorite singers' husbands name is Ash. But I'm not at liberty to varify that rumor.

If this helps to explain the state-of-mind I may have been in while writing this, some of the music I listened to was: Heather Nova, BT, Talvin Singh, Ani DiFranco, Sarah McLachlan, Tool, VAST, and Delerium. At least, those are the ones I can remember.

All of the characters are in some way or another my own original creations, but I do owe credit to the people of RenPic, because a lot of a few characters came from them. Ash and a handful of others were pure Emily, whereas Auset, Reese, Sera, and Cally were Emily/RenPic hybrids.

Part Two, Duality (9-00 thru 2-01)
The second half of "Rising Into Consciousness", I started this one immediately upon finishing the rough draft of RIC. Basically, Auset and Reese weren't quite through with me yet; they had a few more things to do and say. This part of the story was much easier to write, as the characters had really come into their own and started speaking for themselves really. I think I like this half better than RIC style-wise, as I am always trying to improve and I think it shows here. I'm pretty happy with this.

As for new characters and such. Andrew (Andy), Reese's younger brother, is another pure Emily invention. There isn't much of a story behind his name, I just kinda liked it. Ione, his girlfriend, is pure me as well, only I got the name from an actress I dig, Ione Sky. I thought it was a great and unique name. Reese's father is original as well, I just tried to make him nasty and dislikable, but at the same time not hateable because we needed to understand why Reese and Andy were always trying to help him and stand up for him. Ryan, Reese's old friend, physically is based off of a friend of mine actually. Personality wise, however, he's just your typical artsy guy who got trapped in a small town (I've known a lot of 'em in my day, believe me). Mary, well, yet again she's a pure Emily concoction. Just a coniving, seductive, plotting corporate climbing gal! Comes with her own power suits and spinning kick action! Heh, anyhooo...

Settings and such. There is actually a town in southern Illinois called Flora, though admittedly I've never been there so apologies to anyone who is from there or something who felt as though their town was unfairly represented here. ;) Dallas, however, I have been to numerous times as I used to live about two hours north of it and we (my friends and I) made regular trips there. It's a very groovy city. The "artsy" part of the city reffered to in the story is Deep Ellum, which is actually Dallas' club district. The juvenile hall that Auset is having flashbacks to is based off the few accounts (first hand and book) I've read/heard of what they're like. Basically, it's me venting my need to write about darker subject matter. Grrr.

What I listened to! Oh how exciting. Music tends to inspire my mood, and I've found that when writing for certain characters or scenes, listening to the right tunes can really help. I listened to a lot of Tool and VAST when writing the juvie scenes, Ani DiFranco and Liz Phair when writing the Flora scenes, and then in general I listened to Heather Nova, Paul Oakenfold, Holly McNarland, BT, Delerium, and Massive Attack. Oh and, for the final scene when Auset and Reese are dancing in the club, the song that inspired such adjectives was "Heaven Scent" by John Digweed.

Props and praise:
A big what's-up to my faithful psuedo beta reader, Ali -the-ever-enthusiastic, and to Kamouraskan for being so durn friendly and encouraging (Kam's writing once saved my life and the life of my roommates). Thanks to Dar for getting my often times messed up timeline all straightened out. Another big what's-up to anyone else who actually read this, and of course big heapin' helpings of thank you's to those webfolk who posted my stories on their sites! =) I love you guys!

This Is Not An Exit (2-3-01)
I wrote this story on assignment for my Creative Writing class. We were just suppose to write a short short story that was from a single point of view. And so I did. And for some reason unbeknownst to me, this is what came out of it. I dunno really where the idea came from...perhaps it had to do with me listening to Massive Attacks "Mezzonine" and the Abstrakt compilation CD while I was working...and maybe the fact that I hadn't had more than 5 hours of sleep in the past two days...all contributed to this little surreal story. Who knows? But here it is. The story-within-the-story, btw, about the swan and the scorpion, is actually an old old fable. I believe the original actually had a frog carrying the scorpion, but ah well. Artistic Licsense.

The Adventures of Dammit In the Real World
What I've posted is the finished story, but it's a rough draft--and very subject to change, mind you. The name is up for grabs as well, so if you have any suggestions, lemme know. As for what exactly was going through my mind while writing this one? Probably something dirty that involved Nutella (mmm) and jumper cables or something, but we'll not go into that...

The whole TBN (Trinity Broadcasting Network) thing stemmed from my friends and my obsession with watching that horrid channel really late at night when we were really bored. We'd mute it and dub in their voices because frankly the sound of those peoples actual voices makes me want to convulse...and that's no good. The pink-haired lady with "tarantula eyelashes" is a real person, believe it or not, from TBN. I dare you to turn it there sometime and see her...it's a terrifying thing. I listened to a lot of Heather Nova and BT (amoung others) while writing this, if that helps you in any way. One thing I'm not sure about is how I managed to finish this while in the middle of working on RIC...will the wonders never cease? Anyhoo, this is all meant in fun, so if anything offends you, get over it or go elsewhere. :)

Back Across The Desert
I actually wrote this story back on September 29, 1998, but I basically hid it from myself for over a year. I wrote it in a couple of hours (it just flowed) and I wrote it simply because I wanted to--it was for me. It's fairly personal, and if you know me, you know why. That's why I didn't really have any desire for anyone else to read it for a long time. I have a hard enough time letting people read my stuff as it is, for fear that it's complete crap...but I recently decided that even if it is crap, I should at least get it out there to find out, right? So one day I rediscovered this story, showed it to a friend who really liked it, showed it to my dad and linda who really liked it, and posted it. The end.

Dammit...(Visits the World Again) (written Sept. '99)
A bit of a silly story, I know. I was just feeling saucy one day and decided to write something that reflected that mood. This was written in about two days I think, and it makes me giggle. My father is a Presbyterian minister, but by no means strict about the whole religion thing. He really like this story, too. Blasphemy, eh? Heh, well, maybe not. Anyway, it's mostly a just-for-fun story, and strangely enough I have a sequel in the works. I am also open to suggestions about the title and possibly changing it. I dunno.

The (Real) Story of Adam and Eve (aka, version 2.0 of "Adam and Steve")
I decided, one day at work while very bored, to completely rewrite my old old (and somewhat poorly written) story "Adam and Steve", and this is what came of it. It was fun to write, and I don't ask for much more than that. ;)
Adam and Steve
OK, this is not an example of my best writing, by any means. I got really bored one day
while on holiday in California and wrote it in under an hour. I had heard some asshole
earlier in the day make a comment that was along the lines of, "It was Adam and Eve, not
Adam and STEVE, ya faggot!" People like that irk me...so in response to that, I wrote this
story.

Any and all comments/put-downs welcome: vira_go81 HATES SPAM @ yahoo.com (remove all in caps)

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